Don't Read Anything Except What Destroys The

Life Is Made Up Of Three Kinds Of People -- Those Who Live It, Those Afraid To, Those In Between.

At Times The Whole Sky Was Ringed In Shooting Points And Puckers Of Light Gathering And Falling, Pulsing, Fading, Rhythmical As Breathing. All Of A Piece. As If The Sky Were A Pattern Of Nerves And Our Thought And Memories Traveled Across It. As If The Sky Were One Gigantic Memory For Us All.

My Mind Ran Over Scenes Of Shesheeb Seducing Margaret Until I Was A Wagon Dragged By The Runaway Horses Of My Jealousy.

I Did Not Choose Solitude. Who Would? It Came On Me Like A Kind Of Vocation, Demanding An Effort That Married Women Can't Picture.

Now That I Knew Fear, I Also Knew It Was Not Permanent. As Powerful As It Was, Its Grip On Me Would Loosen. It Would Pass.